


It's My Party

by shimmer_like_agirl



Series: OTP: Anything You Need [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 19:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7983238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shimmer_like_agirl/pseuds/shimmer_like_agirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roped into being the guest of honour at  a party on Alderaan she had no desire to attend, Captain Shawnni Devane finds herself making a decision she hadn't expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's My Party

_“I hope you’re not falling for any of Slick’s nonsense.”_

_“Don’t get your feathers ruffled, Corso.”_

_“I’m just lookin’ out for ya.”_

_“I’m a big girl. I can look after myself just fine.”_

_“I know, I know…just…let me know when you’re done with Slick.”_

The note of quiet disappointment in his voice had given her pause. He’d never been any good at hiding his feelings, especially around her. His slumped shoulders and expression of sad resignation had touched Shawnni in a way she hadn’t expected. Her throat had become suddenly thick and her chest tightened in a way she’d hoped never to feel again. 

_“Wait, Corso, I need you here with me.”_

That one single line, uttered in desperation, was how she’d ended up sitting alone and slightly tipsy at her own party, annoyed with herself and feeling conflicted about her feelings for Corso Riggs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Turning down the offer of an evening with a grateful Lenn Teraan had thrown the smuggler off her game. So when Duke Charle Organa had invited her to a celebration in honour of her accomplishments during her stint on Alderaan, she hadn’t been able to come up with a single reason why she couldn’t attend. The best excuse she could muster was that she didn’t have any “fancy pants”. She shuddered at the uncharacteristic lameness even as she remembered the words rolling off her tongue.

She’d been swept away immediately after that and left to soak in a steaming bath. Apparently the stench of sweat, blood, and the tears of the empire weren’t suitable for a fancy party. That part had actually been pretty enjoyable and she’d emerged smelling lightly of satsuma, a citrus fruit she was told could only be found on Naboo. She locked that bit of information away for later.

The lady of the house appeared briefly, taking a few moments of her precious preparation time to select a dress for her guest. Two young ladies fussed over the dress while they helped her into it, ignoring her long suffering sighs and exaggerated eye-rolls. They insisted on describing the dress to her as they made periodic adjustments to the garment, despite her own adamant insistence that she didn’t care. What did it matter to her if the jewel blue gown had a sweetheart neckline, cap sleeves and a skirt made of the lightest chiffon that would float magically when she danced? She was far more concerned with where she’d stash her blasters underneath all that fabric once no one was looking. 

A third attendant tugged at her dark hair, pulling it this way and that, making it do things she was pretty sure were unnatural. “Why can’t you just leave my hair?” she asked, but she may as well have been speaking into a void. “I kinda like it the way it is.” With what seemed like a thousand pins, her locks had been transformed into a pile of rich, dark curls atop her head, cascading down over her left shoulder. While she wouldn’t say it aloud, she had to admit it looked spectacular when they showed it to her with a little mirror. 

Once the dress and hair had been settled, yet another attendant appeared with a pair of high heeled shoes and a speculative look, no doubt wondering if their guest would be able to pull off something so fancy.

“The answer to your question, honey, is no, absolutely not. You’ll sooner see a Hutt wearing a floral bonnet than me wearing those death traps. I’ll just wear my boots.” Even as the words escaped her lips, she knew it was ridiculous. “Okay, okay, but there’s no way I can wear those. Don’t you have anything flat?”

Given the horrified looks everyone present gave her, she may as well have asked to attend the party naked while riding a nexu. The one holding the shoes shook her head vehemently, “no, no, my dear, this is the style of the season. You can’t be seen wearing anything else.”

“You’ll regret that when I spend the entire night flopping around like a fish out of water,” Shawnni told them while giving serious consideration to just bolting the moment an opportunity presented itself. She looked around the room and saw that every pair of eyes was fixed on her. “There’s no way I’m getting out of this, is there?” She sighed heavily in resignation and stuck out a foot. “Fine. Have at it, but when I embarrass myself in front of everyone you’ll only have yourselves to blame. This won’t end well. I can pretty much guarantee it.”

Once both her feet were uncomfortably ensconced in the pair of heels, she took a few tentative footsteps. “Huh,” she muttered to herself, noting how easy it was. A few more steps and a quick turn later and she was grinning from ear to ear. “This ain’t so bad, ladies. Not bad at all. I mean, they ain’t the most comfortable things I’ve ever worn, but they’ll do. Guess I made a big deal out of nothin’.” 

Considerably more confident now of herself, the smuggler turned towards the full length mirror so she could view the final result. Her cheeks flushed slightly at the sight she was presented with. “Oh!” She almost didn’t recognize herself in the reflection. “Is it conceited to tell you all how pretty I am right now? ‘Cause I am lookin’ goooooood.” Turning this way and that, she continued to admire herself. As great as she looked, something was missing. “So, ladies, how do I go about getting somethin’ shiny and sparkly to set this all off?”

The atmosphere change in the room was instantaneous and almost tangible. Every single body in the room suddenly found themselves overcome to speechlessness studying whatever they were holding, or fixing, or even just intensely examining the finish on their fingernails. Not a soul would meet her eyes. The meaning of the silence wasn’t lost on Shawnni and the heat that washed over her face rivalled the twin suns on Tatooine. “Feed me to the fishes of Naboo! The dress and the shoes and the hair is where they drew the line, isn’t it? I can’t be trusted with their precious jewels. I’m so untrustworthy I’ll just make off with everything they’ve loaned me?” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked around the room, daring someone to meet her eyes. None of them did. 

It was at that inopportune moment that the lady of the house chose to return to the room to check on their progress. Shawnni turned on this woman, whose name she didn’t even know, making her the target of a wrath born of embarrassment. “I’ve been hauling my behind all across this stupid planet for weeks,” she snapped. “I haven’t been able to walk even ten paces without someone asking me to help with a problem that apparently you people are too inept to solve yourselves!

“I’ve put my life, and the lives of my crew, on the line to help you all out time and time again. And for what? So you can throw yourselves a fancy party and pat yourselves on the back for a job well done? So you can look down your snooty rich noses at me? So you can watch me all night just to make sure I don’t steal anything?” 

In a huff she crossed the room until she was nearly nose to nose with Lady Whatsherface. “I’m not a thief.” That wasn’t entirely true, but she wasn’t about to let facts ruin a perfectly good tirade. “I’m a smuggler. There’s a difference, but I guess I shouldn’t expect someone like you to understand that. If it doesn’t have to do with parties, gossip, or arranging the next inbred marriage for your house, it’s not worth your attention.

“Now get out of my way so I can go to your stupid party,” Shawnni snarled as she moved past the woman who’d been struck dumb by the tirade. “I’m going to drink your booze, eat your food, maybe even sleep with one of your husbands, and then get as far away from this blasted rock as I possibly can.” 

Her heeled feet angrily carried her away from the dressing room. The people gathered in the halls melted away to give her space to pass, except for the unlucky few who weren’t quite fast enough and were unduly pushed aside with a snarl and a choice muttered swear. Once she arrived at the massive ballroom that was home to the night’s party, she made a beeline for the bar.

“Gimme two of the strongest drink you’ve got,” she said to the young man behind the counter. “And I ain’t talkin’ about whatever dozen kinds of watered down wine you’re undoubtedly ordered to serve. I want the strong stuff and I ain’t leavin’ until I get it.”

The bartender swallowed hard, unused to dealing with someone like the smuggler. “I...uh...I’m not supposed to...I mean,” he stuttered, stopping to try to get control of his tongue. “Wait, aren’t you that hero everyone’s been talking about? This whole party’s for you, isn’t it?”

Shawnni sighed heavily, resisting the urge to slam a hand down on the bartop. “Look, kid, let’s be straight here. Yeah, they gave me a useless title and threw this stupid party on my behalf,” she admitted, gesturing behind her. “At the end of the day, I’m just a tool for them to use. We’re no different, you and me. We’re useful because we can be paid to provide a service to a bunch of uptight nobles. I’m skilled at getting things where they need to go and occasionally removing people who get in my way. You’re skilled at making drinks.” Her fingers tapped impatiently along the edge of the bar. “Now do me a favour and give me the strongest thing you’ve got otherwise there’s no way I’m going to make it through this shindig without strangling someone.” Her face creased in a brief grimace. “It’ll have to be strangling since they took my kriffing blasters.”

Two glasses appeared within moments, filled with a dark, pungent brew. She knocked the first back, biting back a cough as it seared down her throat. The second followed suit shortly after making her eyes water and she slammed the empty glass down. “That’s what I’m talking about, friend. Now just give me a whiskey and we’ll call it a day. If I drink any more of whatever that was, I’ll be passed out under a table in ten minutes.”

Drink in hand, she made her way over to a cushioned bench where she could observe the nobles as they converged on the room. The previous drinks were already doing their job making her feel slightly tipsy. The bitterness hadn’t faded, though. She hadn’t even wanted to be here in the first place. This wasn’t her scene, she didn’t do fancy dresses and parties. She could have, no, should have been spending the night getting up close and personal with the extremely good looking Lenn Teraan.

No, instead of spending an invigorating evening with the young lord, she was stuck here. She’d turned him down flat to the surprise of everyone in the room, herself included. And for what? Because Corso was sad? Why did she care? Why had it physically pained her to see his reaction to her flirting with Lenn?

She knew he was sweet on her, he’d been upfront about that from the beginning. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested. She was, it was just that he wasn’t the type for quick flings and she had to respect that. She’d been just as clear that she wasn’t up for a long term, committed relationship. One night stands were more her thing. The less she knew about her lovers the better. Attachments just weren’t her thing. 

It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried. Her line of work didn’t exactly set her up to meet a lot of fine, upstanding citizens. Smugglers, pirates, and thieves didn’t tend to make for long lasting relationships. Still, there’d been a number of contenders in her history, but they’d all fizzled for one reason or another. The closest she’d ever come to committing had been with a slippery Devaronian with a name she wasn’t even sure was actually his. It didn’t work out. How could it? He’d been far too old for her and she secretly suspected he was in love with someone else. They’d parted on decent terms, but it had hurt worse than any blaster fire she’d ever taken. She’d heard through a mutual contact a few months earlier that he’d been killed. Whether or not she believed that, she wasn’t sure.

After that last relationship had ended, Shawnni had sworn to herself that she wouldn’t get seriously involved with anyone. A broken heart wasn’t something she ever wanted to experience again. For months afterwards, she’d repeated to herself every day that it was better to be alone than to risk that kind of pain again. Eventually the repetition paid off and being alone became her default preferred state.

It had all worked so well until she’d picked up Corso on Ord Mantell. He was completely different from everyone she’d met before. He didn’t shy away from the more illegal aspects of their work, but there was a goodness to him that had taken her off guard. Almost immediately after leaving the planet, she’d found herself having to remind herself on a daily basis of her determination to remain alone.

He hadn’t exactly gone out of his way to make it easy for her to keep her promise to herself. Most of the time he didn’t even have to do anything. He made her laugh when she was feeling low. He listened to her when she wanted to talk, even when she told him all her grossly exaggerated stories. Her blasters had never worked as brilliantly as they did after Corso had gotten his hands on them. He was a decent cook, too. Soon enough she found she liked having him sitting in her co-pilot’s chair when she flew, and she missed him when was elsewhere on the ship.

“Blast it, Shawnni,” she whispered the curse into her glass. “The reason you’re here instead of with Lenn is because you’re thinking with your kriffing heart instead of your head. You like Corso. And you like that he likes you. Maybe you should just admit you don’t want to be alone anymore.

“What’s in this drink anyway, truth serum?” she knocked back the glass and poured the rest of the rest of the liquid down her throat. “Maybe you should just stop thinking about him, especially since he hasn’t even bothered to show up. Wouldn’t that be something to get stood up when it’s not even a date?” she asked the empty glass in her hand with a shrug. “Okay, time to start to talking to real people instead of inanimate objects.”

The ballroom held significantly more people now than it had when she’d started her unfortunate self-reflection. Her eyes roamed the crowd, searching for someone, anyone, that she recognized. Maybe it was just her imagination, but most of these people were starting to look the same to her. There a few vaguely familiar faces from earlier in the week, but none with names she could remember.

Shawnni joined a group of chatting nobles, trying to look like she was listening intently to their inane babble while attempting to recall if she knew them, and if so, from where. In an effort to amuse herself, she started silently giving them all names of her own. On her left was Lady Birdsnest of House Triestoohard who had actual stuffed birds attached to her hair. On her right was Duke Leerington who seemed unable to look anywhere but her chest. Next to him, presumably, was his wife, Duchess Dourface, who glared at her as though it were her fault the man couldn’t keep his eyes to himself.

These people were all so tedious. Did they do anything besides gossip about each other? It was no wonder she’d been so busy since landing on this rock. It seemed there were precious few people capable of taking care of actual problems. Shawnni drifted from group to group, barely listening to their yammering, her eyes combing the room, waiting for something better to show up. Waiting for Corso, she privately admitted. Where was he anyway? He was usually the punctual one, the one who got her moving when she wanted to drag her feet. 

She’d just decided to call his comm channel when her eye was caught by the main double doors of the ballroom opening. Corso walked through the opened doors, a mildly apprehensive look on his face as he took in the overly opulent ballroom. Seeing him there, even from afar, set loose a storm of butterflies inside her. That was a new sensation, she thought, although not entirely unwelcome. 

Shawnni thought about waving to him to get his attention, but found herself content to just watch him from deep within the crowd for the time being. His formal wear was relatively plain in comparison to what some of the men were wearing, but it suited him perfectly. He wasn’t the type of man who needed all the frippery of extra tassels and fancy embroidery that was the current style. The simple tuxedo seemed to be tailored specifically for him and the green of his shirt was the perfect shade to compliment his skin colour...and his warm brown eyes.

Excusing herself from the group, she made her way through the crowd towards where Corso still stood. “Hey there,” she said as lightly as she could manage, touching the back of his hand to get his attention. “You clean up real nice, farm boy.”

He turned at the sound of her voice, a grin lighting up his face as he saw her. “Look who’s talkin’.” He took a step back to get a better look. “Geez, Captain, you look...really,” he paused, swallowing hard. “Really...beautiful,” he finished softly. “I mean...not that you don’t always...look beautiful…you do. I just...I should stop talkin’, shouldn’t I?”

With a fond laugh Shawnni squeezed his hand. “Corso Riggs, I don’t know a woman alive who doesn’t enjoy being called beautiful. Especially by a man as handsome as you,” she added, enjoying the way his eyes widened at her words. “Now come on, let’s get you a drink. I’ve already gotten a head start so you’ll have to catch up.” As she led him to the bar she realized she was still holding his hand. He didn’t seem especially eager to let go, and neither did she, if she was honest. When she let go to hold her drink it felt a little weird, like there was a void that needed to be filled.

Drinks in hand they moved to the edge of the room to watch the assembled guests do what they were best at, socializing and political maneuvering. “So are you going to tell me why it took you so long to show up?” she teased to break the silence. “It’s not like you to be late for anything.”

Was it just her imagination or did he seem to be avoiding her eyes? “It was nothing,” he said finally. “I...uh, got a little lost. This place is really big.”

She knew him well enough by now to know he wasn’t being entirely truthful, but she didn’t know how to approach it. If he wasn’t willing to talk about it, she wasn’t going to press. “Do you ever wonder what it be like to live the way they do?” she asked after a few minutes..

“I think it’d be awfully boring,” Corso admitted thoughtfully. “All that scheming and plotting can’t really compare to going into a fight with your blasters blazing, killing bad guys and saving the day. I think our kinda life is way better than anything these guys could offer.”

“So you wouldn’t give it all up if you were given the chance to retire to a palace like this with a safe full of credits and an army of servants at your beck and call?”

“Heck no, not a chance. I don’t need any credits I don’t earn myself. I’d be happy at the end of the day with a little homestead somewhere out of the way, maybe a droid or two to help out with chores.” The dreamy look on his face told her he’d given quite a bit of thought to this scenario. “You probably think that sounds boring,” he said quietly.

“It sounds different, but not boring,” she admitted. “I always figured I’d end up buying myself a cantina when I was ready to quit smuggling. Maybe on a quieter planet, though. Nothing so busy as Coruscant or Nar Shaddaa. Just a little place where everyone can come relax and have a good time.” 

“I can see you doing that,” Corso grinned at the picture she’d painted. “Who knows, maybe we’ll end up retiring on the same backwater planet. I’ll come to see you at the end of every day and we can reminisce about the old days when we were young, stupid and adventurous.”

“I think I could handle that.” They lapsed into silence again, but not uncomfortably. It was a nice feeling, she thought, standing here with him. They were both so different from everyone else around them. If they were going to look down at her, at least she was in good company. Shawnni chewed her lip thoughtfully, wondering if she should tell Corso about her blow up earlier over the Duchess Organa’s refusal to lend her any jewelry. Would he understand or would he think she was petty? Maybe it was silly to be so bothered by something so superficial. 

“Captain? You alright?”

She gave her head a shake to try chase the bitter-tinged thoughts away. It was probably better to stay quiet about what had happened. “I’m fine...just a little hungry, I guess. I thought there was supposed to be food at this shindig.”

As if on cue an army of servants filtered into the room, each carrying a tray laden with different bite sized delicacies. “The least they could do is label these things so we know what we’re eating,” she grumbled as she snatched a handful of something off a passing tray. “What do you think this is?” she asked Corso who’d somehow managed to grab an actual plate and fill it with an assortment of food. “It probably tastes awful.”

“Why don’t you try it and find out?” With a gentle hand he reached and took all but one of the pieces from her and added them to the plate they were now apparently sharing. “I ain’t even gonna try to guess why you’re suddenly so cranky, but don’t take it out on the food. I’m sure it’s delicious,” he told her as he popped a small piece of something into his mouth. “Hey look, I was right! Try one, Captain. I promise you won’t regret it.”

A sigh of resignation passed her lips before she took a tentative nibble on the rounded pastry she still held in her hand. Irrationally she wanted to hate it just so she could continue feeling bitter over the earlier events. As she bit into it, a smoky savouriness filled her mouth. “Ugh it is delicious.” She plucked a few pieces off the plate, and then a few more for good measure. “Why are you always right?”

“Just lucky,” he grinned and snatched a piece from her fingers before she could eat it. “Not fair of you to take all the good ones.” 

“What are the chances we could sneak some of this out of here and onto the ship? Maybe we should stop by the kitchen before we leave.” Her brain was already working, trying to remember the layout of the building and what would be the easiest way to get to the kitchen. Nevermind the fact that she didn’t actually know where the kitchen was. “How many of these do you think we’d need to fill up Bowdaar?” she asked, half seriously.

“I think we’d need to find a big ol’ shipping crate. The big guy sure can pack it away,” Corso chuckled as he snuck their quickly emptied plate onto a passing pile of dinnerware. “D’ya think if we follow that pile we’ll end up in the kitchen with all the food? With our luck we’d end up doing dishes instead.”

“I’d almost rather be doing dishes than be hanging out with this crowd,” she told him with a grimace. “ I tried to mingle with these people earlier and let me tell you, most of them are duller than a rusty vibroknife.”

“I guess then we’re lucky we have each other.” There was something in his tone that made her cheeks warm pleasantly. “I haven’t been bored for a single second since we met back on Ord. I think we can make it through an evening with people infinitely less interesting than we are.”

“Have you always been this charming, or is it just all this fresh Alderaan air?”

“Maybe I’ve always been charming and you’re just noticin’ now, Captain. Maybe there’s a lot more to me that you haven’t gotten around to noticin’ yet,” he leaned in closer to her, his voice softening noticeably.

The flutter in her stomach returned as she raised her eyes to meet his. She swallowed hard, searching for the right words. “Maybe I’m starting to notice,” she whispered, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.

“Don’t tease me like that, Captain,” he said with an uncertain tremor in his voice. “I don’t think I can take it.”

When she brushed the back of his hand with her fingertips, her nerves were pulled tighter than if she were playing a high stakes game of sabacc. This was the point of no return. She could laugh it off, blame the alcohol, and they could go back to the way it was before. The way it had been only yesterday. Did she want that? Or did she want to listen to the quiet little voice at the back her mind that pushed her to take a chance? 

From the corner of her eye she noticed something new happening out on the floor. She bit her lip and folded her hand around his. “Dance with me, Corso?”

He raised an eyebrow, momentarily confused until he saw the flurry of action taking place in the centre of the room. “You sure ‘bout this?”

She wasn’t, not even remotely, but it was worth a shot. “Absolutely,” she said with a conviction she didn’t quite feel. “Let’s show these stuffed shirts how it’s really done.” She pulled him out onto the floor and, after a few clumsy moments, they figured out where their respective hands needed to go and their feet fell into step with the music. It wasn’t exactly an electrifying start.

They danced together in an awkward silence at first, not quite meeting each other’s eyes, both focusing on keeping up with the steps. Corso picked it up more quickly than she did, which wasn’t a surprise. She’d seen the man dance up a storm several times in the cantinas since they’d met. Apparently that kind of talent translated well to this kind of dancing. Once she was more confident in her own steps, she looked up, meeting his eyes for the first time since the start of the dance. “This isn’t too bad, is it?”

“It ain’t bad at all,” he agreed with a smile that sent a warm flush to her cheeks. The music changed tempo slightly and he spun her around effortlessly, pulling her back and holding her just a little closer than before. “You catch on pretty quick, Captain.”

“It’s easy when you’ve got a good partner.” Shawnni let herself relax, bolstered by his confidence in the way he held her. “Where’d you learn how to dance like this?”

“My sister was obsessed with dancin’ when we were growin’ up,” he told her with the trace of sadness that touched his voice whenever he talked about his family. “She would dance with anything. Brooms, pillows, pets, you name it. One day she figured out I would make a better partner than a broomstick. She pestered me relentlessly ‘til I gave in.” He gave her a warm smile when she squeezed his arm in comfort. “I think she’d be happy all that pesterin’ paid off. What about you, Captain? You don’t exactly seem like a beginner.”

“You’re gonna think I’m making this up, but it was my sister, too,” Shawnni admitted, allowing herself to think about her older sister for the first time in years. “We were so poor growing up on Nar Shaddaa, we were desperate to make ourselves feel better. We used to pretend we were high class society ladies and we would make up these elaborate dances in our apartment.” A lump formed in her throat at the memory. “One day I stole an instructional holovid that showed us how to do some different waltzes. That’s all we did for weeks afterwards. Allis always had to lead, of course,” she said, laughing now as she remembered her imperious sister’s insistence in the matter. “She wasn’t quite as good as you, though.”

Corso winked and guided her effortlessly through another tempo change. “I’ll take the compliment. Guess we should both be thankin’ our sisters right now, otherwise we might not be lookin’ as good as we do right now.” He pulled her closer until she was almost pressed against him and lowered his head to hers. “I’d hate t’look a fool just when I finally get the chance to be this close to you.”

Shawnni blushed furiously, the butterflies taking flight again. “You look pretty good to me.”

“Good t’hear.” He didn’t pull back into the proper dance form like she’d expected. “I gotta be honest with ya, Captain,” he said softly. “I know this ain’t the night you’d originally planned. I ain’t even gonna try to guess why you’re here with me instead of off doing whatever with Slick.” He paused, waiting for an interruption that didn’t come. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad I got to be here with you tonight.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad, too. I can’t imagine having this much fun with anyone but you.” Shawnni moved her hand to press it lightly against his cheek, enjoying the happily surprised look that earned her. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Really? I mean, yeah, I do, but...you want to leave your own party early?”

“Why not? There’s nothing left here for me,” she told him. “I’d much rather spend the rest of the night with you instead of these uppity asses.”

“When you put it like that, how can I refuse?” Corso cast a sweeping look across the roomful of people. “How’re we gonna get out of here without anyone seeing? They probably won’t be too willing to let you leave so early.”

“There’s a balcony over there,” she said, nodding in it’s direction. “The door is open...I’ve seen people come in and out all night. Let’s try that and go from there?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

They danced their way over in the direction of the balcony. When they reached the edge of the crowd they parted slightly, still holding hands, and walked as nonchalantly as they could manage towards the door. Once outside, Corso closed the door behind them, after making sure they were alone. “Step one, done,” he said quietly. To the right he spotted a stone staircase that lead downwards into darkness. “Let’s try that. Better than trying to jump from here.”

“I’d rather not break a leg tonight. Let’s go before someone comes out and tells us to get back inside.” She reached for his hand, a tingle running through her fingers as they made contact. They followed the stairs down, slowing when they lost the light and taking each step carefully. After what seemed like an age, they reached the bottom of the stone staircase. Another step forward proved they were on ground level as Shawnni’s heels immediately sank down into soft grass.

“Okay, these are coming off,” she said after pulling her shoes out of the ground. Now shoeless, she paused to consider something that hadn’t crossed her mind in their hasty exit. “Corso?”

“Yeah Captain?”

“All our things are back inside. Clothes, blasters, credits, all of it.” She cursed under her breath. Her dress was pretty enough, but ultimately useless when it came to day to day life. “It’s not like we can sneak back inside and get it all...not without getting dragged back into the party.”

Corso’s answering laugh was completely unexpected. “Don’t worry, I got it.” He took her hand again and led her around the corner and down a flowered walkway. They were well past the main building and into an elaborate garden when he finally came to a stop in front of a vine covered trellis. “Wait here,” he told her before disappearing behind the bushes. When he emerged minutes later, he presented her with both their packs.

“Wait...what? How did you…? When did you…? Corso!”

He grinned widely at her confusion. “I’ve known you long enough to expect that at any given time there’s a ninety-five percent chance you’ll want to make an unscheduled escape. So I grabbed these and stashed them before I came to the party.”

That was a thoughtfulness that absolutely melted her heart. “So this is why you were so late? I thought maybe you were standing me up.”

“Like I would ever do that,” he chided softly. There was a moment of silence between them and he seemed unsure of what he was about to say next. She could see the indecision written plainly on his face, as well as the moment he decided to just plunge forward. “Maybe I’m reading things wrong. If I am, please just stop me.” He looked more nervous than she’d ever remembered seeing him before.

“Go ahead,” she spoke softly in encouragement. She was almost entirely certain she knew where this was headed.

“I don’t know how to do this with a lady like you. Court you, I mean,” he clarified nervously, watching her face. “You know that I like you, and I kinda feel like, after what happened tonight, maybe you might feel the same. If we were back on Ord Mantell, I’d ask for permission to seek your hand, but this isn’t Ord and you’re galaxies ahead of any woman I’ve ever met.”

Shawnni couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her lips. “Is courting what I think it is? Does it mean flowers, poetry, and stealing kisses before we’re not supposed to?” She drifted closer to where he stood. “Because that seems like something I would be on board with. Especially the kissing part.” She closed her eyes expectantly, but found herself waiting.

“Believe me, Captain, I really want to get to that, but I have something for you first.” Corso turned his back to her to root through his pack. “Aha, here we go.” He held his hands behind his back as he faced her. “There was another reason I took so long getting to the party. I was coming to get you when you found out they wouldn’t let you borrow any jewelry. You rushed right past me, but you were so mad I guess you didn’t see me.

“You were right to be angry at them. You’ve done so much for this whole stupid planet and they don’t appreciate it. Not even a little bit, and that’s just not right. So I kinda went and ‘borrowed’ this on your behalf.” In his hands he held the shiniest, sparkliest tiara she’d ever seen. “I wanted to get somethin’ bigger, but I couldn’t….”

“Shush,” she interrupted him. “It’s beautiful and...I can’t believe you stole this for me. You stole me a tiara!” She laughed delightedly and placed it carefully onto the crown of her dark hair. “How does it look?”

“You look beautiful.” Corso stepped to close the distance between them. “You don’t need a tiara for that, though.”  
She gasped in surprise when he slipped arm around her waist and pulled her closer. His lips brushed against hers lightly, questioningly for only a moment before covering her mouth with his. With a groan she parted her lips, revelling in the feeling of his kiss as it went deeper, sending a shiver of pleasure through her. Her hand slid up to the back of his neck, keeping him close, not wanting to release his lips. 

“We should go,” he said breathlessly when he pulled back, reluctantly, not loosening his grip. “Let’s get out of here before they realize what’s missin’.” He kissed her again, apparently not quite convinced himself. “We can continue this back on the ship…?”

“Mmmmm hmmmm,” she agreed with a lazy nod. “You’re gonna have to start calling me Shawnni. Captain seems a little formal, don’tcha think?”

“Anything you need, Captain,” he quipped stepping just out of arm’s reach as she swiped at him. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

Shawnni reached forward and grabbed him by his lapels, pulling him to her for another kiss. “Behave yourself,” she murmured when they parted. “Now, what do you say we cap off this night by stealing us a speeder? We’re probably not gonna be invited back anytime soon and these shoes weren’t exactly meant for long distance travel.”

“If I remember correctly, there’s a whole bunch parked just over this way. Wait here, I’ll be back in a jiffy with your new ride.”

“Just make sure you pick something big and fancy...a two seater with leatheris seats,” she called out after his retreating form. “Y’know, something we can pull over and make out in once we get away from here.” She chuckled to herself as she watched him stumbled slightly once he’d processed her words. “Oh yeah, this is gonna be _completely_ worth it.”


End file.
